


Crashing in the Aftermath

by SherlockedPsych (Makhsi)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of a Case, Gen, Post Case, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makhsi/pseuds/SherlockedPsych
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's limp returns in the times between cases. Sherlock does his best to keep that from happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crashing in the Aftermath

They both have their post-case rituals.

As they leave Lestrade's office (or the morgue, or the crime scene), John convinces Sherlock or join him for food. Chinese, or Thai, or Indian - anything flavorful and filling. They dissect the case over their first real meal since it began. Sherlock dissects the habits of everyone who passes them by. 

In 221B, Sherlock collapses in bed and sleeps for sixteen hours straight. John collapses in front of the telly, turns on something inane and decidedly _not_ exciting... and breathes.

Seventeen hours later, John's tea has grown cold, and Sherlock swirls in with his hair damp after using up absolutely the entire supply of the flat's hot water.

"John," he says, voice low and quiet. Gentle, even, if one could apply that word to anything that is _Sherlock_.

John is still staring at the television. It's been playing an infomercial for thirty minutes.

"John," Sherlock says again. Less gentle now. More like _imperious_ , or perhaps _impatient._

John still doesn't move. He's awake but glassy-eyed, not even seeing the TV.

Sherlock discards all pretense of gentle. "WATSON!" he barks, in his best drill-sergeant impression.

John startles to life, leaping to his feet to stand square and alert. He stares at Sherlock. Blinks once. Twice.

His left hand trembles, and goes still.

"What," John manages, "what are you - you're awake already?" He grimaces, rolling the stiffness from his bad shoulder. "Look. Sherlock. It can't have been half an hour - will you get some bloody rest for once?"

Sherlock pauses for just a heartbeat. "Of course, I was just - showering." He eyes the deepening lines of John's face. "You're exhausted. I'll go to bed if you will."

The doctor gives him a look that says he doesn't half believe it, but he mutters assent and stifles a yawn. His footsteps are heavy on the floorboards as he heads to his room. 

Sherlock reclines on the couch, fingers steepled before his face, and listens to the sound of John's nightmares.

* * *

In the days after a case ends, Sherlock runs experiments and John runs neglected errands. At night, Sherlock plays incessantly upon his violin. John stays out too late at the pub with Stanford and drinks more than he should.

When the tremor returns to John's left hand, about a week after a case, he starts picking up extra hours at the surgery. Sherlock begins pestering Lestrade for a case.

There comes a point, every time, when John stops going to the pub. He reduces his shifts at the surgery (or Sarah reduces them for him, because his hands shake too much and he stares at the wall and doesn't realize an hour has passed and he's late for a patient). He watches crap telly for hours, neglects his blog, and even stops griping about the milk.

That's when Sherlock gets on edge. He knows, he knows... not much time now. He _observes_ , doesn't he? He sees. He knows John's pattern and this laconic state, this is a danger sign.

So Sherlock rages, and Sherlock plays his loudest and most obnoxious music at 3 a.m. to interrupt John's nightmares, and Sherlock throws temper tantrums so very petulant that John can't _help_ but rise to the bait - and respond, engage, _react_.

It keeps the limp from returning. If he can just keep John distracted enough, keep his life _busy_ enough, then the next case will show up before John has to dig out his cane again. They'll go racing through London town, "dangerous" lighting up their neurons and adrenaline bringing John back to life. For a time, for as long as the case lasts and a little bit afterwards.

For both their sakes, Sherlock keeps them from being _bored._

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired to write this after [ranting about Mycroft's statement that John isn't traumatized by the war, but rather misses it](http://archiveofourown.org/works/874555) \- because you can be traumatized by something and still miss/need it.


End file.
